Bed of Nails
by tromana
Summary: Maybe the Red John saga wasn't quite as over as they first thought. Jane/Lisbon, post-3x24. For Divinia Serit.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Bed of Nails  
><strong>Author: <strong>tromana  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T  
><strong>Characters: <strong>Jane/Lisbon  
><strong>Summary:<strong> How could she feel so betrayed and yet, still feel so desperate to come to his aid? Post-3x24  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>All of Season 3.  
><strong>Notes: <strong>Extremely belated not-so-secret Secret Santa fic for Divinia Serit.

_"In fact, being - forgive me - rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger."  
><em>Albus Dumbledore, _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_

**Part One**

They got the case.

Of course they did and Teresa Lisbon wouldn't have expected anything less.

Cho had told her, in a quick visit. Just long enough to ascertain that yes, she was on the road to recovery and tell her that Patrick Jane had been transferred into their holding cells for the murder of the serial killer more commonly known as Red John. That was Cho, brief and to the point.

Knowing that didn't make it any easier.

There was, after all, a reason why she was currently hospitalized.

Briefly, she glanced across at Van Pelt. She had curled herself uncomfortably into a plastic seat and was currently dozing fitfully. The poor woman was drained and unsurprisingly so. It wasn't every day that you found out your fiancé didn't really love you and had only been with you to provide vital information to a serial killer. Nor was it a regular occurrence that you shot said conniving bastard to death. Lisbon knew that after the dust had blown over, the youngest member of her team would have a lot of recovering to do.

Even more so than herself, in a way.

Lisbon looked at her arm. No bandage, just a dressing. The blood had already begun to seep through. She had only been out of surgery for two hours as well. On the plus side, she wasn't in any pain yet. Clearly, the morphine was yet to leave her system and she was grateful for it. This was a situation she had been in time and time again, so she knew from experience what to expect as time progressed. Eventually, this would be just another scar to add to the growing collection. Another memory to stoically ignore, given time. There would be other occasions when she got injured in the call of duty. That was something she could virtually guarantee. It was, after all, a common hazard in her line of work. Sooner or later, they were all expected to put themselves into harm's way. It was practically written in the CBI handbook.

She glanced up as the door swung open yet again. It was the nurse, coming in for her half-hourly check up. To make sure that her blood pressure had remained stable, that her oxygen levels were still good, that she still knew where the hell she was. Automatically, Lisbon answered each and every question, almost by rote. The worst part was knowing that these visits were going to continue throughout the night, just to make sure she didn't take a downward turn. Really, all she wanted was the chance to close her eyes and go to sleep, but how could she do that knowing she was going to be disturbed again soon?

And not once did the medic ask how she was. Mentally, that was. He was simply interested in how she was feeling physically, post-surgery. That she didn't feel sick or disorientated or worse.

But just _how_ was she feeling?

Lisbon couldn't be sure.

A lot had happened in such a short period of time. If anything, she was lucky to get out of it with her life. Two near-death experiences so close to one another was draining on anyone. Before she even had a chance to come to terms with the fact some psychopath had strapped a bomb to her, Craig O'Laughlin had shot at her. Aiming to kill, naturally. Her escaping both situations in one piece, or at least, just about, was mostly good fortune.

That and…

Well, that was where it got complicated. During the first incident, Lisbon could pretty much guarantee that Patrick Jane had saved her life. When she had come round, with that hideous contraption tied around her, she had been petrified. Yet, at the same time, she knew that if Jane hadn't been there, things would have been so different. Despite the terror, she would never have given into Gupta's demands. There was no way she would have even considered for a moment putting other people's lives in danger, especially those of her colleagues at the CBI. If Jane hadn't been there to persuade her to act otherwise, she would have been blown into hundreds of tiny pieces in half a second. Of that, she was certain.

However, more recent events weren't so clear cut.

How could she be certain that Jane hadn't known that O'Laughlin was the mole earlier? That he hadn't lead them up a garden path, believing it was Gale Bertram? As far she knew, he could quite easily have sent her on her merry way, to protect Hightower while he flushed out Red John, alone. It easily pushed her to one side, meant she was literally out of the way. Completely unable to do what she had sworn she would always do.

Stop him from ruining his life. Again.

How could she have ever believed that she had enough control of Jane to stop him?

Her less cynical side was begging her to give him the benefit of the doubt, to believe that he had genuinely slipped up. That, like the rest of them, he had genuinely thought Bertram was Red John's mole. And that Bertram would have confessed so that Rigsby and Cho could bring him into custody.

In hindsight, Red John being there made sense. She just wished that she had had the common sense to go to the mall herself, to station Rigsby with Hightower instead.

Deep down, she also realized that they hadn't meant as much to Jane as she had believed. None of them did. Not Cho, Rigsby, Hightower, Van Pelt and most certainly not herself.

Somewhat pettily, she remembered the half-baked promise that he'd call her back. Ridiculously, Lisbon had clung to the foolish belief that he actually would. That he cared enough about her wellbeing to ensure that she was indeed receiving the medical attention she so obviously required. Of course, she should have known at the time that it would be a broken promise. She had already known that Red John was in the vicinity at that point in time. That Rigsby and Cho would have already left the scene in order to try and catch up with O'Laughlin.

She should have known that being left alone to his own devices, Jane would never let Red John slip away. That he would exact his revenge, just as he always said he would. And that nobody was there to stop him. Just like he had probably planned, all along.

As the medic slipped through the door, she cursed quietly to herself.

How could she have been so naïve?

xxx

He'd been in this room before. Not for an extended stay, just to work on other cases. Help get confessions and the like. Those times, he hadn't particularly noticed just how dreary and depressing the holding cells were. Then, Jane had always been too fixated on the job in hand; they had always provided an adequate distraction from his ulterior motive. Stopped him from getting bored while Red John planned his next move and kept him stimulated. Besides, the CBI would never spend excess funds on something like this. They were already stretched to breaking point as it was. Why waste money on making criminals feel more comfortable before they were transferred to jail? The basic necessities were all that was required for a relatively brief sojourn. A chair, a bed, a light. A guarded door to ensure the prisoner didn't escape. Nobody stayed in there for longer than seventy two hours, so nothing more was needed. By that point, the CBI were legally obliged to move them on, whether that be in the form of release or by charging the individual and transferring them to jail.

Or, if the individual's case had become compromised one way or another, of course. That was something that had happened thanks to himself relatively recently. Somehow, he'd persuaded Lisbon to work against her instincts in order to get Donny Culpepper off the hook, a man charged with attempted burglary. A man who had only tried to commit said crime because Jane himself had paid for him to do so. And the only reason Lisbon had agreed to do so was because she could see the bigger picture. That Jane was trying to find out who had framed Madeleine Hightower.

A wistful smile crept across his lips. The team had been genuinely good to him, Lisbon especially. Jane had always known that she loved and loathed him in equal measures; the look was frequently apparent on her face. And really, it was her grudging respect for his ability to close cases like a demon that meant she didn't get sick of him for once and for all.

Until now, of course.

He dreaded to imagine what she thought of him now.

She probably believed that he had intentionally set up this whole situation, purely to get her as far away from him as possible while he faced Red John, alone. Part of the flaw in that line of thinking was that she would be fairly accurate, believing that. Jane could only hope that her optimistic side would seep through and give him the benefit of the doubt. Due to prior experience, Jane knew that was highly unlikely. When it came to him and his exploits, Lisbon was cynical to the very core. She would never willingly judge him favourably, despite the fact she was a cop and a big believer in the concept of 'innocent until proven guilty'. Quite frankly, in the past he had never given her any reason to do so, however. Usually, the most he could promise her was that he didn't actively try to screw up the SCU's cases.

But then again, he had always been up front about what he intended to do to Red John. Lisbon could never say that she hadn't had the forewarning. She couldn't take it as if it were an unexpected blow. Even in recent conversations, he had confirmed that he would kill the serial killer, given the chance. That that was something that hadn't changed since he had been assigned to her unit. Yes, she had always believed that she would be there to stop him, but Jane had always known otherwise. Jane had always known that she was determined to try and 'fix' him, that she couldn't say no to a hopeless cause like him.

Maybe, if she had had longer, she would have got lucky. However, they had known one another for over seven years, so that was still very unlikely.

Briefly, he wondered why he hadn't been questioned yet. It was an open and shut case, there was nothing to worry about. They'd already caught their killer and he was locked behind closed doors. There were video recordings of him committing the crime from the mall. They had plenty of witnesses and no doubt many of them had already confirmed that he had shot Red John in cold blood. They even had the murder weapon. All they needed to do was get a recording of his confession and then, they could send him on his merry way. Then again, Cho probably assumed that Lisbon herself would want to question him. At least, he would want to give her the option to anyway. But if he was, they couldn't guarantee that Lisbon would be discharged from hospital before his seventy two hours were up, never mind being cleared for active duty once more.

Jane genuinely hadn't expected her, or any of the others, to get injured in the fray with O'Laughlin. When it came to Lisbon, he had always been somewhat blind to her abilities. Almost believed that she was superwoman, able to get out of any scrape completely unscathed. Not that he hadn't seen her get injured or have close calls in the past; he just found it easier to ignore those memories rather than dwell on them. Hearing the shot over his cell phone had unsettled him, especially so when he realized the bullet had hit Lisbon.

He hoped she'd make a swift recovery, she deserved that at the very least. Especially so as he was somewhat to blame for her receiving said injury in the first place. As far as Jane was concerned, he should have realized that Van Pelt would tell O'Laughlin where Hightower was and lead him straight to them. Really, he just expected them to be able to take control the FBI agent before things got out of hand. Jane couldn't feel sorry for the man's passing; he had hurt too many people he cared about. Who knew what lasting damage he had caused Lisbon and especially Van Pelt? Besides, he had willingly worked for _Red John_, for no obvious reason. Or rather, reasons unknown to him. And considering his current predicament, he was unlikely to discover them any time soon.

There was the sound of footsteps outside, quickly followed by silence. Obviously, nobody was interested in questioning him yet. It was simply guard duty being switched over, the start of the night shift.

Jane laid back on the makeshift bed.

He had done it. He'd killed Red John.

But really, had it changed a thing?

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Firstly, Paint It Red is hosting a ficathon! There's a link to the forum in my profile, or you can message me for more details. Either way, we'd love to see more activity on there.

Thank you to: Frogster, Mia66, Bluebaby555, Brown Eyes Parker, Divinia Serit, Miss Peg and PhoenixWytch for reviewing part one.

x tromana

* * *

><p><strong>Part Two<strong>

Jane was somewhat startled when the door swung open with an almighty bang. Quickly, he moved himself into a seated position and relaxed when he saw Cho standing at the door, with a tape recorder in hand. Obviously, he had been to check on Lisbon and was now ready to move forward with the questioning. Not that it was going to be an average days' work, for either of them. After all, this was going to be the first time he was on the receiving end of Kimball Cho's infamous interrogation technique.

Of course, knowing Cho well didn't mean he was going to make it easy on him. That, after all, would be boring and that was never his style.

Besides, he had more important things to worry about. Being charged and eventually convicted was an inevitability. Finding out more about how Lisbon, Van Pelt and Hightower were was something he was unlikely to get a second chance at for a while. He wasn't exactly in any of their good books right now and regular visits weren't something he could guarantee.

"Well?"

"Well?" Cho echoed as he sat opposite Jane, expertly avoiding showing much emotion.

"How is she?"

"Who?"

"Who do you think?"

Cho fell silent for a moment, but Jane expected this. He was probably considering why the hell he even cared how their - _his_ - boss was doing. After all, Jane's actions were going to have repercussions on the entirety of the CBI, not just Lisbon and her team. There would be investigations into how the hell they could have knowingly hired someone who had intent to kill in cold blood. Heads would roll, most likely those of the fat cats. He certainly hoped Lisbon wouldn't suffer; she had desperately tried her hardest to reign him in. Her team would certainly vouch for that.

"Doesn't matter," Cho replied stiffly, before switching on the tape recorder. "Mr. Jane, you are here.."

Swiftly, Jane pressed the button off once more, much to Cho's irritation. How could he say it didn't matter? Of course it mattered. If Jane hadn't suggested she stay with Hightower instead of follow him to the mall, she would never have been shot. Until she had received his telephone call, she had trusted O'Laughlin, thought him genuine. How was she to know that she had just welcomed a killer into the midst? Put her own life and that of others, those under her protection, in danger? Besides, how could Cho really believe that he didn't care about the outcome of the shooting? Of course he did. It wasn't as if he could just switch off years worth of affection at the drop of a hat. Just because he'd killed Red John, it didn't mean he cared about his ex-colleagues. Despite the fact they would claim otherwise, they were the ones who had helped him. And yes, to a certain extent, they had been the ones to keep him sane during his quest. Without them, he would probably have returned to the mental institution long ago.

"She's okay?"

Once again, Cho paused and Jane was relieved. He could tell from Cho's body language that everything was fine. For a start, the man was too calm. If Lisbon had been at death's door, it would be a different matter. Yes, he would probably still be doing this interrogation there and then, but he would be tense, distracted. Lisbon wasn't just a boss to him, but a friend. But still, Jane needed to hear the words, have the reassurance. Only then would he be happy to give Cho the information he required. Only then would he be ready to be moved to a jail cell, far away from the CBI.

"She's fine," he answered quickly.

"I don't believe you," Jane stated.

He wasn't being pedantic; that was a game he played exclusively with Lisbon and suspects who were bothering. No, he genuinely didn't believe what Cho had to say. The agent sitting opposite him, looking distinctly uncomfortable considering and clearly wasn't telling him the whole story.

"Physically, she'll be fine," Cho eventually answered.

Jane knew that that was a leading statement. It was one thing to be physically well, but mentally? That was a whole other ball game. Something which he understood all too well. There had been a reason, after all, that he had been sectioned. Besides, shootings had always unnerved Lisbon somewhat. She hated the repercussions, the mandatory counseling sessions, dealing with the fact she had either killed somebody or almost been killed herself. Jane didn't need to be a mind reader to be able to tell that that was what she found the worst part of her job. Dealing with death, one way or another.

And then, of course, she would be blaming herself for not stopping him. Positively kicking herself for it. She had been so convinced that she would be there, that she would have had an element of control for the situation. As far as she was concerned, it was probably her fault for not realizing that it truly was out of her hands.

A surge of guilt rattled through his system, but he cast it aside. It was too late to think about that. The deed had been done. Instead, he leaned back and placed his hands behind his head.

Cho was going to be the only intelligent company he'd have for a while and therefore, Jane knew he might as well make this farce of an interrogation last as long as feasibly possible. He knew Cho wouldn't appreciate that, but still, Jane would miss the man. He'd miss all of them. But then again, it was an inevitable consequence, a direct result of what he'd done.

It'd be a long while until they realized that in a way, he'd almost have done them a favor. They didn't have to live the rest of their lives with Red John's blood on their hands. Nor did they have to spend several more years looking for a killer who had disappeared into the ether. That was, if Red John had been telling the truth at all about his supposed retirement. A twisted sort of justice had been done and Jane knew that, while he may not feel all that much better about it, the relatives of the other victims may have found the blessed relief in closure.

xxx

"Agent Lisbon."

"LaRoche," she muttered in acknowledgement.

Lisbon was still taken aback with the fact that LaRoche had actually bothered to visit her while she was still in hospital. Briefly, she wondered why he wasn't observing Jane's questioning, quickly surmising that Bertram and Rigsby had taken on that role. Even so, his visiting her would have still come as a surprise even if he had waited just twenty four hours, when she would be safely back home. In fact, she was due to be discharged within an hour, if she was lucky. The most she had expected from her superior was a telephone call, dictating when she was expected to visit a doctor in order to get clearance for active duty. As with Hightower, she and J.J. LaRoche had gotten off to a rocky start. That was hardly surprising, but Lisbon still hadn't forgiven herself for essentially shooting herself in the foot. She should have known better but then again, it had equally been a lesson hard learned. It wasn't a mistake she was willing to make again in a hurry. Then again, part of her hoped that she wouldn't be having to form a new relationship with yet another new boss any time soon. The CBI was seeming to have problems keeping hold of any special agents since Minelli's unexpected retirement. It was almost as if the position was cursed or something.

Then again, she couldn't exactly be sure that she wouldn't either. Thanks to Jane's thoughtless actions, the CBI had been put into an uncomfortable position. It was impossible for them to ignore what Jane did and they certainly couldn't claim deniability. They had always known Jane's plans when it came to Red John. Or at least, she had. He had been vocal enough about them around her, after all. And that meant Minelli, Hightower and even LaRoche must have been aware of it as well. She didn't appreciate the legal wranglings that they would no doubt have to endure, but she sincerely hoped that none of her superiors would lose their jobs. Then there was her own position. Where would she go if she ended up being disgraced and kicked out of the CBI? Being a police officer was all she'd ever wanted, all she'd ever known. She knew, realistically, it was a possibility. Public perception could hit an all time low and therefore, the whole agency could even be at risk. Red John may have been a serial killer, but he had been killed by a CBI employee. One who shouldn't even have access to a gun. It had been her job to stop it.

And she had failed.

"Patrick Jane is currently being questioned by Agent Cho."

"Good."

"I am expecting that he will confess to his crimes and be transferred to Pelican Bay imminently."

Lisbon actually liked the fact that, like Cho, LaRoche didn't bother mincing his words. Sometimes, there was nothing worse than getting through unnecessary small talk just to get to the point of a conversation. It just felt like a hassle, politeness for the sake of it. She didn't bother answering LaRoche's statement. What was there to say? It was exactly what she had expected to happen to him in this situation. It was what she had always endeavored to stop.

"Do you wish to speak to him before that happens?"

"No, let him rot in jail, for all I care."

"You don't mean that, do you?"

"Yes, I do," Lisbon replied, albeit stiffly.

"Then it's a very sad day for all of. You actually losing faith in Patrick Jane."

"He killed a man."

"So have you."

Lisbon flinched. Of course she had; it was practically a part of her job description. Then again, who was LaRoche to bring that up? She didn't know everything about her superior, but she wouldn't have been surprised if he had had to spill some blood in order to get to where he was now. Most people in his position had to; it almost seemed like killing people for the greater good was a badge of honor, something to be proud of. Something that separated the great cops from those who were merely decent.

"That's different."

"You're right, of course. How long until you will be ready for active duty, agent?"

"Two weeks until I am capable of light paperwork, six to eight until I can manage more," Lisbon answered, having finally grown used to LaRoche's quick changes of subject. "That's what my doctor says, anyway."

"Very well. After this point, you will be expected to attend mandatory counseling sessions," LaRoche stated, ignoring the obvious scowl on her face. "I look forward to your return and hope you have a swift recovery."

She nodded and laid back down. It _was_ different. Jane had killed Red John in cold blood, she knew as much from the little that Cho had told her. As far as the law was concerned, Red John's history didn't matter. It was still murder. After all, the fact he had a firearm on it at all suggested that he knew Red John would turn up. That meant it was premeditated, too. Whenever she had been in the unfortunate position of killing somebody, it had always been in the line of duty. To protect herself, others, the state of California. It was never a decision she took lightly and the guilt always rested heavily on her heart. Jane, however, he had actively chosen this path. Sought out the ways and means to become a murderer. Willingly decided to take a life, to live with the guilt for the rest of his life. That was, if he felt guilty at all. Everybody responded differently to the act of vengeance. Some felt better, fulfilled, others abhorrent, like they had sunk as low as the person they had just killed. Others simply felt nothing at all.

Lisbon didn't know what she wished upon Jane. All she knew was that she had to cling to her beliefs. To truth, to justice, to the law. And that meant Jane had to be imprisoned for what he had done. After all, if she didn't, what exactly would she have left?

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay in updating; far too many projects going on in one go.

Thank you to: TeresaLisbonCBI, PhoenixWytch and Frogster for reviewing part two.

x tromana

* * *

><p><strong>Part Three<strong>

Jane sat in the van, watching as the fields sped by. It was almost deathly silent; all he could hear the thrum of the engine and LaRoche's heavy breathing. Not only did LaRoche not bother with music, but he didn't seem to like the idea of talking either. Then again, why would LaRoche bother making conversation with him? After all, he had been the CBI's proverbial golden goose and now, he was having to drive Jane to Pelican Bay, as a criminal. Jane was almost entirely responsible for the Serious Crime Unit's success in recent years. It was his skill at reading people and his canny abilities to notice what others didn't that had closed so many cases. Admittedly, it had also caused the amount of lawsuits to shoot up too, but every positive had its negative. Virgil Minelli had seen that, when he had offered Jane the role and LaRoche had appeared to agree with his sentiment.

This negative was probably somewhat bigger than most.

In fact, LaRoche was probably seriously regretting keeping him on the payroll at all now. The man had probably already lost count of the number of meetings he had to attend to in order to deal with this 'crisis'. Then there was the fact that one of his units was severely understaffed and the list of dilemmas went on. When he had taken over as special agent, he had the right to shuffle around his staff as much as he wished. It was one Jane had seen him exercise first hand, albeit briefly. Besides, LaRoche had known immediately just how reckless he was, having observed his methodology for several months before taking his position. Clearly, he was accepting of Jane and therefore, should have known that something like this would happen sooner or later. Then again, Lisbon had always stuck her neck out for him, had protected him more than most. Maybe she hadn't divulged his intentions when it came to Red John to LaRoche? But equally, she was a good cop and a stickler for the rules and therefore, may have informed others of his exact intentions. And besides, he had directly told Virgil Minelli of his quest for revenge, though the man may have been convinced that he just intended to help apprehend him. The upper management may have even figured it out without being informed; why else would he have wanted to work with the SCU, other than to get close to the Red John case? The serial killer had brutally murdered his family, it was only natural that he would want vengeance.

LaRoche drove him immediately through the gate and guided him straight to the reception for admission. He may not have had his hearing yet, but Jane was already being treated like a dangerous criminal, and justifiably so. He _had _killed a man. Just because he didn't have any intentions of killing any others, it didn't mean they could trust him. Besides, society dictated that wrong-doers had to be punished and this was something Jane had always anticipated. Well, it was either prison or death.

Another stint in jail didn't worry him in the slightest. He'd already been there, done that and got out of it unscathed. That being said, last time, it was low security and he had been able to break out with only a little effort on his part. This time? Well, he was certain that LaRoche was going to give the prison staff a full rundown of his colorful past so they could deal with him accordingly. And, he didn't have Lisbon on the outside to pull some strings to ensure a swift release. Jane doubted whether or not he'd even see her again, even once she was fully recovered. She was probably blaming herself for his incarceration already. He hoped not; she should be focusing on getting better before wasting her energy on anything as fruitless as that.

LaRoche didn't even bother to bid him farewell, but that didn't particularly bother Jane. He never really had a chance to get to know the man and therefore, the lack of sentiment was appropriate. In a way, it was probably for the best that it was LaRoche who had driven him to Pelican Bay; the rest of the team were furious with him. Even if they were in a fit state to drive, it would have been an unpleasant experience for all concerned.

He followed instructions blindly. It wasn't because he had given up on life and had lost interest in everything, nor was it him wallowing in self pity and accepting his fate. Really, Jane knew it was simply something that had to be done. No amount of fighting would change the fact that he had to be processed and guided to a prison cell right here and now. Besides, he was relieved that it was over. That Red John was dead. He didn't feel the peace he was anticipating, nor the sense of completion and he wasn't sure that would even come. But he did feel tired, like he was ready to sleep for a hundred years. Seven years of painstaking work had come to an end, so it was only natural that it would take its toll on his body.

"Shall I take this one to solitary confinement, yeah?"

It was almost a repeat of the last time he'd been behind bars as a convict. Jane jolted from his reverie, as if he were waking up from his daydreaming. Normally, he took an interest in everything that was happening, so that he knew what was important and what to let go of. But at the moment, nothing _was_ important. Nothing would be until he got to speak to a lawyer before the inevitable hearing. There was no need for him to categorize every little detail right now. Maybe, when he met the other inmates, his spirits would brighten, but until then, he was more than happy to go with the flow.

"No," he said, resolute in his decision.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't want solitary confinement."

"Says here you need it," the man replied gruffly. "You're responsible for half our inmates being here."

Jane pulled a face, not really caring about the details. "So?"

"It's your funeral," he answered with a noncommittal shrug.

xxx

There was a sharp knock at the door and Lisbon winced as she pulled herself up. She had just managed to get herself comfortable on the couch, but of course somebody had to see fit to disturb her. Having spent half the morning being violently sick, she had hoped to get a few hours sleep. Sometimes, she was convinced that recovering from surgery was worse than sustaining the injury itself. Her doctor had offered an extra night in the hospital's care, but as always, she wanted out as soon as feasibly possible. Partially because she loathed hospitals, but mostly because of her health insurance. She scowled when her visitor knocked for a second time, louder than the first and she swore under her breath. Sometimes, people really lacked patience and she wasn't in any fit state to rush.

When she saw Cho and Rigsby standing behind her door, her mood brightened a little. Both had visited her, albeit briefly, while she was in hospital, but she hadn't been able to spend an extended amount of time with them. Lisbon doubted that she would right now, either, but it was still good of them to take the time out of their days to stop by. Especially as everyone at the CBI was probably rushed off her feet. Van Pelt had spent a considerable amount of time with her over the past seventy-two hours, however. LaRoche, rather sensibly, had insisted that the young woman take compassionate leave. It wasn't every day you shot your conniving bastard of a fiancé to death in order to save your boss and friends. She hoped Van Pelt was doing okay now; it really hadn't been long since it had happened. When she left, the younger woman had informed Lisbon that she was intending to spend a few days with her dad. That was probably the best place for her, especially now she was certain that Lisbon was on the road to recovery. There was nothing more Van Pelt could do to help her; what she needed to do was help herself. Get herself fit to return back to work as soon as possible.

Cho and Rigsby seemed nervous to be at her home and she didn't blame them. In reality, she was surprised that they even knew her address; it wasn't something that she freely advertised. Then again, Van Pelt had probably willingly offered them the information before heading home. The silence was almost painful as Lisbon beckoned them in and it wasn't long until both men were perched uncomfortably on her couch. Quickly, she stifled a yawn and joined them. In a way, she wished that she could go back a week. Despite being in the middle of a major case, everything had seemed so much more simple back then. And Jane hadn't completely betrayed all four of them by deceiving them in order to murder Red John.

"I'm fine, really," she insisted as both of them eyed her nervously.

"I'm surprised you're home so early," Rigsby said, with a wan smile. "I would've thought…"

"I've known people have brain surgery and be discharged the next day," Lisbon replied quickly and he looked momentarily stunned. "Can I get you a coffee?"

"Please," Rigsby answered gratefully, "but I'll make it."

Rigsby disappeared quickly into the kitchen, almost looking relieved to escape. Unlike Rigsby, Cho looked calm and composed. Then again, she didn't expect anything less of him. There was a reason why Cho was her second in command and why she was so keen to keep hold of him. They worked well together and she knew that Serious Crimes would be in safe hands until she was fit to return to work.

"I take it you're lead?"

Cho nodded. "They've drafted in Miller from Organized Crimes and Robstein from Missing Persons."

Lisbon nodded in response. She knew that nobody would be particularly happy with that arrangement. Most of the CBI's units were relatively close-knit and therefore any shakeup, even temporary, was going to ruffle a few feathers. Therefore, she didn't particularly envy Cho's position and hoped that she could return as soon as feasibly possible. It was understandable why LaRoche had made that decision; the SCU's manpower had been seriously depleted in just one day. They also had to deal with the more important cases on a regular basis so it was vital the team remained fully operational.

"I have something to show you."

"Oh?"

He handed over a manila file and quickly, Lisbon opened it. As she expected, it was a case file. Her features hardened when she realized just what it was she was looking at: a report on Jane's confession. This was one case she was hoping to avoid entirely during her recuperation. As she had told LaRoche, she was more than willing to hand it over to Cho. It was no secret that she was the one who worked closest with Jane and therefore, she was still feeling particularly hurt.

"I have a recording of it."

"I don't want to see."

"You do."

With a sigh, Lisbon indicated towards her television and allowed Cho to fiddle around with her DVD player. She _really_ didn't want to see Jane admitting to his guilt, but in all honesty, she didn't have the energy to argue with him. Rigsby re-entered the room and distributed the three steaming mugs of coffee. Whatever the reason why Cho was so insistent that she saw this, she could tell Rigsby already knew too. Then again, he had probably been the one in charge of recording the interrogation, so he had probably seen it first hand. Lisbon thanked him politely and quickly sipped at the drink. For some reason, she had a feeling that she would need something significantly stronger than a coffee after this.

Jane's image soon filled the screen and Lisbon, much to her irritation, found herself scrutinizing him. What was being said didn't matter and she ignored that completely. However, his mannerisms were off and there was something stilted about his speech. This was something she'd seen time and time again, and usually, it was Jane's doing.

"He's… he's acting differently," she stated, with a furrowed brow. "You think he's hypnotized?"

All Cho could do was nod in response.

**TBC…**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay in updating things again. I've been busy working on my Skins Big Bang fic as the deadline is now just a month away. That, and I've been focussing on Paint It Red, the new Mentalist fan forum. We currently have the ficathon and artathon running. If you're interested, the link is in my profile.

Thank you to: Brown Eyes Parker, WinchesterSmile, living-and-thriving, glouton-mana, Frogster, MerriWyllow, TeresaLisbonCBI and Divinia Serit for reviewing part three. Especially so to glouton-mana, who signed in anonymously.

I'll try and update soon, but I can't make any promises.

x tromana

* * *

><p><strong>Part Four<strong>

"No, I don't believe it."

Cho nodded slightly and she gazed defiantly at him. Lisbon could tell that he had expected her to say those very words; that he had thought it so typical at her. Then again, it wasn't as if he had brought her solid proof. It was all supposition and theory, simply based on Jane acting unusually during an interrogation. Besides, who exactly behaved normally under those kind of circumstances? She could remember the time when she had been falsely accused of murder, recall exactly what it was like to feel like everything she had worked towards had been slipping through her fingers. The quickening of her pulse rate as she answered the questions on the polygraph and the way those who were meant to care about her seemed to shun her. How they didn't even need _proof_ to assume her guilt. And he had been put into exactly that situation, except for the key fact that they had the cold, hard evidence to show was responsible.

However, if it were true and Jane had been hypnotized, well that changed things. It meant that Jane hadn't been acting out of his own free will, that his actions were induced. Of course, it didn't change the fact that he had _wanted_ to kill Red John, nor did it mean he hadn't murdered somebody. Whatever they said, however it was glossed up, he had still shot a man at close range and watched as he took his last strangled breath. All in a busy shopping mall, with security cameras and countless witnesses. The problems would come with proving it.

_If_ they could, it did mean, however, that he could claim diminished capacity. That death could be wiped clean off the table. Not that any of them suspected Jane would be sentenced with the death penalty. He had caught too many criminals, done too much good for the state of California for them to deal him the ultimate punishment. Then again, for somebody like Patrick Jane, jail would be a fate worse than death. He would be confined to a cell for twenty three hours a day, only leaving for exercise and a quick shower. Lisbon knew that Cho had specifically requested solitary confinement, thanks to the file resting lightly on her lap. It made sense though; putting Jane in Pelican Bay meant they might as well have painted a target on his back while they were at it. As far as the rest of the inmates were concerned, he was the enemy. It was his fault they were there, not their own arrogance or recklessness. Lisbon ran her right hand through her hair and sighed heavily. How could she accept this? If Cho and Rigsby were right, _how_ could they prove it?

"Why not?" Cho asked eventually, after placing his coffee on the table.

"Because it's _Jane_," Lisbon answered quickly, not sure where the words were coming from. "He wouldn't let himself get hypnotized, would he? He'd know if somebody was doing it to him."

"It's not that easy to tell, you know," Rigsby replied, speaking from experience. "If he trusted the person enough, then they might have been able to slip under his radar."

"Oh really?"

Lisbon could count the number of people Jane trusted on one hand and still have fingers left. Realistically, the only person Patrick Jane appeared to trust entirely was himself. Before all this, she liked to think that he trusted her too, or thereabouts, but it was a close call. There were times when he let her in, when she thought she was getting somewhere. But then, he'd pull back, close himself off again, as if he had never had any reason to allow her into his inner sanctum.

"Or if it's just someone you wouldn't expect to have those skills, I guess," Rigsby added.

With a sigh, she opened the folder and read through the case notes once more. It seemed like everything Cho and Rigsby had done in the past couple of days had made the cast cast-iron. Even Jane himself would be lucky to find a loophole into this one. They had covered every avenue and more. Had tracked down Red John's identity, proven that he had links to all of his previous cases and of course, that Jane was the one to take the law into his own hands. If they were right and what they suspected was correct, then that would mean they had to go back to the drawing board. That the whole file could essentially be burned to a crisp and they would have to start again.

For a start, it meant that somebody close to Jane had managed to hypnotize him. Technically, anybody in the team could be a suspect, including the three of them, and Van Pelt too. Then, there was Hightower, Bertram, LaRoche, countless other members of staff within the CBI, members of the general public. Heck, even Red John himself could have hypnotized him shortly before allowing Jane to kill him. She shuddered at the morbid thought. That took the concept of assisted suicide to extremes. And it also meant that if Jane were in a trance, it would be incredibly difficult to work out the way to get him out of it.

"But that would mean…"

"We know," Cho interrupted with a slight nod. "Can you work on this during your leave?"

"Yes, of course, but the case is…"

"Good, because we can't," he answered, silencing her in a second. "The case is closed."

"But if I'm just happening to read old case files during my absence and stumble across something, it's fine?"

"Something like that," Cho said and stood. "Thanks for the coffee, boss."

"Bye," Rigsby added, with a reassuring smile. "I hope you're feeling better soon."

They both saw themselves out and left Lisbon, perched on the edge of her couch. Her television screen still showed a still of Jane, mid-sentence. He looked as calm and collected as ever and yet, even in a motionless picture, there was something off about his posture. With a little discomfort, she grabbed the remote control and switched it off. She couldn't handle looking at it much longer.

Then, there was the decision between resting, as she had intended before the interruption, or starting to research.

Immediately, she picked her laptop up off the floor and switched it on.

xxx

A gruff call at the door demanded that he should step back and Patrick Jane obliged. There was no point in making work hard for the prison wardens; the staff at Pelican Bay simply had a job to do. It was also rather depressing, dealing with convicts day in day out, the vast majority of whom had committed horrendous crimes. It certainly wasn't conducive to a bright and positive workplace. Besides, most of his fellow inmates were determined to make life difficult for those who worked at the prison. Thankfully for the staff, Jane wasn't among them. That was mostly because he had expected to be caught and tried and was therefore, entirely ready for this eventuality. It was the least he deserved for killing somebody. And besides, he had no intention of laying a finger on another soul. He'd set out to kill Red John and achieved his goal. Everyone else behind bars had been stunned that the law had caught up with them and their stupidity.

"You have a visitor."

"I do?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

Jane looked at the warden, Kenneth, and gave him a sunny smile. The man frowned in response and completely ignored Jane's question. Even though he had been imprisoned for barely three days, Kenneth already seemed to loathe working with him. That was mostly because Jane managed to catch him off-guard every time he set foot in the cell. That and, like the majority of the staff, he resented Jane for taking the law into his own hands. He was almost, though not quite, on a par with cops who became killers.

"Hands."

The handcuffs felt cool against his wrists. A necessary precaution, he knew. It was standard procedure, but even so, they couldn't trust Jane as far as they could throw him. He wouldn't have been surprised if they had learned about his last stint in jail; the only reason the courts hadn't pursued his breakout was because Bosco had been convinced to drop the matter. They knew he was clever enough to escape, if he put his mind to it. However, he didn't have any intentions of doing so. Technically, he was already in enough trouble and it had gotten to the stage where he might as well let the courts decide his fate.

As he was guided into a small, locked, room, Jane began to question the situation. Of course, he had filed a request of visitation from the whole team, though he doubted any of them respond. Cho and Rigsby had already made their feelings clear on the matter. Van Pelt was probably still shell-shocked from O'Laughlin's betrayal and as for Lisbon…

Well. It was probably best not to be thinking of her right now. She'd be fine, eventually. She always got through things like this. And sooner or later, she would come to terms with what he'd done.

Suffice to say, he didn't expect it to be any of them. If his lawyer hadn't dropped by yesterday evening, Jane would have expected him to walk through the door. However, when Gale Bertram sat opposite him, Jane couldn't help but be somewhat surprised. The director of the CBI had been pretty much at the bottom of the list of people Jane had expected to visit him while in jail. Admittedly, the list hadn't been particularly long to start with, but it didn't matter. Why did the Bertram even want to see him? Surely he had a whole manner of crises to be dealing with right now? Especially considering he had their famous consultant imprisoned, agents injured or on compassionate leave, had falsely accused Madeleine Hightower of murder and allowed a mole from the FBI, no less, to sneak around the CBI unnoticed. Visiting him should have been so far down the agenda that it would have been forgotten about for years.

And yet, here he was, sitting opposite him.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Patrick."

"Thank _you_ for visiting."

They fell into an uncomfortable silence, with neither of them sure what to say. Jane hadn't really had much interaction with Bertram, why would he? There was little that he needed to say to the man during his time at the CBI. Even Lisbon only spoke to him on rare occasions, if a case was deemed high profile enough for the brass to be involved. So, it felt even more unusual to have him visit. He had no personal connection to Jane, apart from the fact he had made the CBI's closed case rate look exceptional. That, and he also significantly increased the number of complaints and threatened to quit on a yearly basis. If anything, for Bertram, Jane had been a double-edged sword. One of their best minds coupled with one of their worst personalities.

"Why are you here?" Jane asked, eventually breaking the silence.

"To offer you my support," Bertram answered, having clearly prepared for the conversation. "You may appear to be a guilty man, but in reality you have saved us a great deal of work. We should be grateful."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Not only that, but you've closed countless cases and until now, had nothing but given us nothing but a positive perception in the media."

Jane remained silent and instead, drummed his fingers against the plastic table. He was skeptical; Bertram had always appeared to be one of those men who followed the letter of the law in a black and white manner. The fact that he was being so relentlessly positive about what Jane had done was, frankly, bizarre. Everybody else from the CBI was shunning him and rightfully so. They had warned him against doing this and in some cases, begged him not to. All their threats and pleas had been willfully ignored and inevitably, he had angered the few people who were foolish enough to care about him.

"You look doubtful?"

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"You killed _Red John_, one of California's Most Wanted. In addition to the rest of the work you've done for us, we should be giving you awards, not locking you up like this," Bertram answered back. "Unfortunately, that's not how the law sees it."

The director of the CBI leaned over and squeezed Jane's left shoulder tightly.

"You'll be alright, Patrick."

**TBC…**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I'm so sorry for the delay in updating, but I bring some good and less good news. Good news? I was taking the time to finish my Skins Big Bang fic and now that is over and done with. I will be starting to post it soon and I promise you _may_ find it interesting. Not so good? I've signed up to write three more Big Bang fics. Yes, three. However, because they're all in their infancy, that means I'm still in the blase stage of writing them so I may well focus more time on this.

Thank you to: jamhead, Brown Eyes Parker, glouton-mana, Idon'thaveaname, SteeleSimz, xxxBekaForEvaxxx, livingandthriving, jeda09 and Frogster for reviewing part four.

x tromana

* * *

><p><strong>Part Five<strong>

"Wait!"

Bertram heard his call but didn't respond. Instead, he just disappeared through the door and presumably, left the jail entirely. However, that wasn't enough. Jane needed to talk to him, now more than ever. Angrily, he slumped back in the plastic formed chair and let out a heavy sigh. This was bad, no, it was very bad. One of the worst situations he had ever found himself in. And considering his nightmarish childhood, that he had nearly been killed on several occasions, already been locked up and was chasing a serial killer for murdering his family, that was a pretty impressive feat.

Why the hell had the past few days been such a blur? Why did he feel like he had just woken up from a bad dream? He prized himself on his skills and the fact that he had perfect recall of the things that mattered. That his memory palace was like a fortress that nobody could get in or out of without express permission. He wouldn't willingly let this kind of thing happen to him, let himself live his life as a daze. Jane needed to remain focused, vigilant, if he ever wanted to seek vengeance. If he allowed himself to switch off for just half a second, well. Things like this , why was he in jail, anyway? What had he done which meant he deserved locking up? Had he willingly confessed to something that he hadn't actually been responsible of?

It had taken Jane mere seconds to work out exactly where he was. It was blindingly obvious. Along with Lisbon, he had questioned several suspects and convicts behind bars before. A small visitation room was often supplied when dealing with the most dangerous and deranged of criminals. It was for the safety of the convict as much as their visitor. However, he genuinely couldn't place the reason why he was here. All he knew was that he was cuffed, wearing one of those practical, though unflattering, jumpsuits and that a warden was walking towards him, with the intention of returning him to his cell, no doubt.

He'd been hypnotized.

The question was, to do what? Jane had often said himself that you couldn't hypnotize someone into doing something that they didn't want to do. It was a gospel fact he'd learned years ago, when his dear old dad had taught him the skill. Hypnotism was something he'd gleefully learned. After all, who didn't want to know how to bend the minds of others, how to have that utmost control over people? There was something tangible, powerful about it. He would have been lying if he didn't admit to feeling a slight thrill each and every time he put somebody underneath a trance. Though, there had been occasions when he had felt slightly uncomfortable about the concept. That mostly depended upon who his subject was.

How the hell was he expected to get those answers when one of the few men who could give them to him had just disappeared? Presumably, knowing exactly what he was doing as he did so. The fact that Bertram - of all people - had been able to put him under a trance unsettled him. He hadn't even realized that the director of the CBI had acquired those skills and it worried him that he had misread the man entirely.

Besides, he'd never give _Bertram_ the chance to get close enough to him to hypnotize him.

Then again, he had been under a lot of stress lately. What with trying to flush out the mole, whoever he - or she - was. Bertram was on the list, but Jane had never shut out any of the other options in favor of one or the other. If Bertram was the mole, and that was looking likely, then that would explain why he'd been so desperate to leave. It also went some way to explaining why he had been willing to pin the blame on Hightower, in order to get him off the hook. Of course, that had never worked. Jane hadn't suspected Hightower for a second; the woman had far too much to lose. She would never have sacrificed the well-being of her children in order to serve Red John. It just didn't fit her character profile.

But if Bertram _was _the mole, why hadn't he been arrested? Cho and Rigsby had accompanied him to the mall, while Lisbon kept an eye on Hightower and her kids. Why was it him in jail, instead of Bertram or indeed, Red John?

Red John.

Had he turned up? Had he actually succeeded in killing him. That was the one thing that Jane had been desperate to do. To watch him suffer the way that his wife and dear little Charlotte had done. If somebody had hypnotized him, suggested that a man standing before him was indeed Red John, then he would most likely have willingly butchered the bastard, regardless of who else was present. And it would explain why he was imprisoned.

But what if it _wasn't_ Red John he'd possibly killed? What if it was somebody else, another one of Red John's nut job acolytes, willing to lay down their life to protect the serial killer?

Then again, that was all theories and hypotheses, based on the very little he knew about his situation. He couldn't even remember what had happened to him in the past seventy two hours, so how could he be sure that he had killed somebody under hypnosis?

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Jane had been so convinced that Rigsby had been lying when he'd said he couldn't remember what had happened to him that time he was hypnotized. Whenever he had previously been put under, he had always remembered every vivid detail. Then again, on those rare occasions, he had been prepared. Had put himself forward for it willingly, to learn and hone his skills. This was the _only_ time he somebody had actually taken him off guard and managed to hypnotize him.

And it was Bertram who'd seemingly done it. Or at least, he'd worked out what the trigger had been, which meant he was most likely connected to the mole and thus, Red John. Which meant, they had been unsuccessful in their ploy to catch Red John. They hadn't been one step ahead of him, as they had suspected. They'd been behind him.

Willingly, he allowed the man to lead him back to the cell. There was no point in fighting it. Nothing he could do about what was happening to him at the moment. He needed more information, more resources, in order to get himself out of this mess. If that was feasibly possible at all.

Really, he needed to speak to his lawyer.

And Lisbon. If she would be willing to see him at all.

xxx

"You didn't have to do this."

Rigsby shrugged in response. "How else would you have got to Pelican Bay, what with your arm?"

"Public transport?" Lisbon offered, scowling slightly.

Rigsby laughed slightly, which irritated her further. Really, she thought it was completely inappropriate that he take her on a wild goose chase, especially as he was actively take time off work to do so. The CBI was already being stretched to breaking point and at this specific moment in time, the only fulltime member of the Serious Crimes Unit actually doing any work was Cho. Lisbon didn't like that, even though she did understand that the predicament was almost entirely unavoidable. If she had her own way, then she'd already be back at the CBI, but even then, she would have been restricted to desk duty at most.

"Yeah, because that would be practical," he replied, with a slightly uncharacteristic sarcastic tone. "Honestly, boss, it's fine. We're not as snowed under as you think."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," he assured her, "besides, I get to deliver some files by hand. Now rest, okay?"

"Rigsby…"

"That's something else you wouldn't have been able to do on a bus."

"I'm not tired."

"I don't believe you."

"Just shut up and drive."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered with a smirk, acknowledging the contradiction.

It was several hours until they reached Pelican Bay. Rigsby drove steadily, always taking care not to break the speed limit. Lisbon liked that about him; he was good, honest, reliable, the polar opposite of his father. Much to her own irritation, she did catch herself drifting off on occasion. Just because she had had relatively major surgery recently, it didn't mean she felt she could be forgiven for that. After all, she blamed herself for the injury in the first place. She should have realized that O'Laughlin was not all he seemed, that there was something amiss about him. Should have ran a background check on him or something; he could quite easily have been fired and kept hold of his badge. Or worse, been posing fraudulently as a member of the FBI.

And as a result, they were all paying for the consequences. Especially poor Van Pelt, who was clearly devastated, given that she had been due to marry O'Laughlin imminently. Lisbon hoped that her break with her family would do her good; she needed the time, even more so than Lisbon herself needed the time off work. LaRoche may have instructed that she required the counseling sessions, but it was a waste of resources. She was fine; it was Van Pelt who'd need it. That was the thing that Lisbon was most apprehensive about returning to work for. The last time she had been forced to see a shrink via the CBI, she had nearly ended up being imprisoned herself.

Rigsby and Lisbon headed directly for the reception, their badges negating any uncomfortable questions before they arrived there. It didn't take long for Rigsby to do everything he needed to do; the jail had asked for information on Jane's background that the CBI was more than happy to supply. They were both also pleasantly surprised when they were informed that Jane had been on his best behavior. Lisbon had quietly suspected that he would have already started one brawl by now, so it took her somewhat off-guard. Still, she was less than impressed when the man informed her that visitation hours were over and she would have to return in the morning.

"What do you mean I can't see him?"

"We know you're taking mandatory leave, Agent Lisbon," the man replied stiffly, briefly glancing at her left arm. "You have no jurisdiction to demand access to any of our inmates."

"Rigsby's not…"

"Please, don't drag me into it," Rigsby muttered, slightly embarrassed.

"Do _you_ need to see Mr. Jane, Agent Rigsby…"

Lisbon nodded at him furiously, but Rigsby faltered slightly. Even though he had just spent hours driving Lisbon to this place, he didn't actually know why she needed to see Jane so desperately. He wouldn't know the first thing to ask Jane, what Lisbon had spent the past thirty six hours frantically researching on their behalf. All he knew was that she wanted to ask him some question. And, quite possibly, just make sure that he was okay with her own eyes. Knowing Lisbon, she was probably still concerned about his welfare, especially as she was now equally convinced by the hypnosis theory as he and Cho had been.

"You don't, do you?"

"No, sir."

"Well then, that's settled," the man answered, shuffling a few papers. "I expect we'll see you at ten a.m. tomorrow morning then, Agent. Good day to you."

They left the jail in silence, with Lisbon quietly fuming. It was times like this when she hated being on mandatory leave, suspension, vacation, whatever other name you could come up with it. There was always something you needed to do, but couldn't and it ended up hindering progress. She needed to get as far as she could with this before she returned back to work. Even if she was effectively only going to be a pencil pusher for a month, it could be surprisingly time consuming. And even then, it wasn't going to stop her ability to interrogate suspects of the life. It was only the more physical requirements which she imagined would be hindered. Besides, she dreaded to imagine what LaRoche would have to say if he found out they were still pursuing Jane's case.

"What should I…"

"Just drop me off at the nearest motel. I'll stay overnight to see him."

"Okay. Maybe you could tell me what you've found out over a couple of drinks?"

"No, you should go home, Rigsby. You're needed there. I can find my own way back, I promise."

"Fine," he answered, dejectedly. Even though she wasn't technically his boss at this moment in time, she was still the boss. "But call if you need anything. Please?"

**TBC…**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **I'm so sorry I've neglected this fic again. I wanted to get one of my Mentalist Big Bang fics finished (I have!) and my Angst Big Bang fic finished (I haven't.) so kind of forgot to update this.

Speaking of The Mentalist Big Bang, this year it is being hosted on LiveJournal. The community name is mentalist_bb and the link can be found in my profile. We're looking for authors, artists, betas, cheerleaders and translators. If you want more information, please look at the community or ask me.

Thank you to: SteeleSimz, MerriWyllow, Jeda09, LittleMender, livingandthriving, xanderseye, Allie9, xxxBekaForEvaxxx and Time Lady 802379 for reviewing part five.

This may go without saying, but as season 4 is looming and I sincerely doubt that this is anything like the direction the season is going to go, but please don't make comparisons or comments about season 4 to me. I'm completely spoiler free and wish to remain so. I'm also, yet again, opting to watch at UK pace and I'm assuming this will mean I'll be 3-4 weeks behind.

I hope this is worth the wait.

x tromana

* * *

><p><strong>Part Six<strong>

"What happened to you?"

"I could say exactly the same thing."

Lisbon glared at Jane. He knew about the shooting and she'd told him about her injury over the phone. Of course, she had made it out to be a minor incident, but she hadn't wanted to worry him at the time. He had had more important things on his mind, such as flushing out Red John so that Rigsby and Cho could arrest him. Everything had happened so quickly for her; being rushed to hospital, her operation, discovering that Jane had murdered Red John. Or somebody sent by Red John, at the very least. They didn't even have the damning evidence to prove that the man Jane had killed was the serial killer; just Jane's assertion that he was on his confession tape. A confession that could be potentially useless, if their suspicion that Jane had been hypnotized was correct. Even then, they still needed to find the proof that it was Red John, something that Cho and Rigsby were hopefully working on. And now, she was sitting here, in Pelican Bay, demanding answers to questions she wasn't even sure about.

She had never expected Jane to have an easy ride in Pelican Bay. As far as the inmates were concerned, he might as well have been a cop. Therefore, he was a walking target, one of the enemy. He had helped the CBI to send so many of them to jail and now he was amongst them. It was quite possibly one of the most dangerous places for him to be right now. Then again, Lisbon had been certain from the moment that she had heard of Jane's arrest and subsequent charging that he would have been placed in solitary confinement. Just because he had been fortuitous enough to survive behind bars without even suffering as much as a scratch last time, it didn't mean he would be quite so lucky this time around. Besides, Pelican Bay held far more dangerous criminals than the county jail he'd been housed in last time.

Still, seeing him sitting there with a blackened eye and a cut to his cheek was saddening. Especially so when coupled with the deer in the headlights expression he seemed to be wearing. When she had approached the visitor's room, she had been telling herself not to feel too sorry for him. That he had brought it all on himself, as he had done so before. Besides, Jane himself had told her time and time again that people under hypnosis couldn't be forced to do anything against their moral character. That meant he had wanted to kill the man he'd seen in the mall. It was just that the actions of somebody else, some unknown character had triggered something in his mind to do so. What the courts would have to say about the hypnosis, what effect it would have on a potential sentence remained to be seen. It partially depended on just who it was Jane had shot, as well as just how much they believed he'd been swayed by the hypnosis.

That was, if Jane had been hypnotized at all. Up until now, she had simply been assuming based on the flimsy evidence they already had.

"Well?"

"It's just a war wound. Something to be expected."

"I know that," she answered with a scowl. "But _how_?"

"How do you think?"

"Jane…"

Lisbon fell silent. Realistically, she didn't need an answer. She already knew that Jane was a magnet for trouble. The amount of forms she'd had to fill in because he couldn't keep his mouth shut or had been punched in the nose by an angry relative was evidence of that. Just because he was imprisoned, it didn't mean he was going to start behaving like a grown adult. If anything, she should have known that things would be worse. Before, he had a reason to live, a reason to fight. Wanting to kill Red John may have been something she completely disagreed with, but at least it gave him a sense of self-preservation. Now, what did he have left? He pushed everybody away from him, to protect himself and he had no family who actually cared.

Deep down, she knew that all he had left was herself. The rest of the team, too. And even then, it was kind of sketchy because if the others felt anything like she did, there was far too many conflicting feelings. Naturally, she was angry that he had taken a trigger to somebody, but she couldn't claim that she didn't have forewarning. In a way, the most overriding sense was pity. He had spent the last eight years not living, but existing. Jane had allowed himself to become consumed with vitriol and hate until there was nothing left of his former self. Lisbon had always known that deep down, underneath all the wounds and bitterness, there was a good man. The problem was sifting it out of all the turmoil and putting him back together again.

A task she had felt more than qualified to do. At the time, anyway.

"And what about you?" he said, breaking the silence.

"It's nothing."

"If that's nothing, I'm not in jail," Jane retorted sarcastically. "What happened?"

"O'Laughlin happened," Lisbon answered sourly, glancing down at her arm.

"O'Laughlin, as in Van Pelt's fiancé?"

She furrowed her brow. "I _told_ you. On the phone, after Van Pelt and Hightower shot him."

"He's dead?"

"Yes, and you worked out that he was Red John's m-"

"O'Laughlin was Red John's mole? But Bertram…"

"The assassin was going to abseil down to his room, remember? We've covered all this," she snapped irritably. "Damn it, Jane. _You_ were the one who worked it all out."

Her eyes remained firmly focused on him, taking in his every move. Jane seemed confused, out of his depth and it genuinely unsettled her. She was so used to him being so self-assured and confident that seeing him not knowing something, especially when he was so deeply involved, felt wrong. Lisbon remembered the time when she had been falsely accused of murder, when she couldn't remember what had happened and had almost believed that she herself was guilty. Jane had been the only one able to pull her out of it and now, it was looking increasingly likely that she was going to have to return the compliment. If he couldn't remember the details about what had happened to O'Laughlin, was there any chance that he could remember anything about what happened in the mall? About meeting Bertram? And the man he had suspected of being Red John?

"Why am I here, Lisbon?" he asked quietly.

Her heart sank. Never mind feeling sorry for him. He didn't even know what had happened.

xxx

"I killed a man? You really expect me to believe that?" he answered back, as soon as she told him what had happened in the mall. "This isn't some kind of sick joke that you've thought up to teach me a lesson? I thought you knew by now-"

"Do I have to show you the mall's surveillance tapes?" she interrupted, snapping angrily as she did so.

Jane leaned back in the chair. Lisbon's eyes were ablaze with fury; she was telling the truth. But why the hell couldn't he remember something as important as killing someone? Had he blotted out the memory? Had he been hypnotized? A combination of the two, perhaps? Quickly, he ran a hand through his blond curls and let out a dejected sigh. He hadn't meant to get angry with Lisbon, he knew she was only trying to help. After all, why else would she have bothered visiting him so soon after a shooting incident? If he were in her shoes, he would have remained at home, recuperating instead of bothering with him. As far as Jane was concerned, he wasn't worth the effort. Not any more. He had caused her more than enough hassle already.

"You're right; I'm sorry."

"Good."

"I know this isn't some convoluted mind game you've cooked up. It's not your style."

"Exactly."

He hated how the conversation had suddenly grown stilted. At least when they had been grilling one another about various injuries, things had been easier. Instead, it felt like there was a proverbial elephant between them, that neither were sure where to go from here. Truth be told, Jane was still confused as hell. The only time he had ever imagined a return to a jail cell was when he had sliced Red John to pieces with a blade, as the serial killer deserved. To hear that he had shot somebody was like a blow to the system. Of course, he owned a gun, not that Lisbon or anybody else was aware of that fact, but shooting somebody, presumably Red John, was always pretty far away from his thoughts.

"What can you remember?" Lisbon asked quietly.

Truthfully, he told her. It was meeting Bertram, in his office, after they had identified him as Red John's mole. Everything from then, until meeting Bertram again, in jail was a complete blank. He hadn't noticed Bertram doing anything that could suggest he was hypnotising him, but then again, Jane hadn't been particularly looking for those traits. At the time, all he had been interested in doing was finding out if he had been the mole, if he really did have connections to Red John or if they had been sadly mistaken. As for Craig O'Laughlin, how the hell did he fit into the picture? From what Lisbon had said, it was obvious that O'Laughlin had indeed been a mole. Why else would he have tried to kill her?

Did this mean that there had still been two moles within the CBI? Both O'Laughlin and Bertram? Or had somebody else merely told Bertram what the trigger was in order to free him from his trance? Jane watched as Lisbon's frown deepened. Clearly, she had gone from believing that the director of the CBI was guilty, to innocent, to guilty once more. However, this was all still supposition and theory. She didn't have any evidence to back it up and he didn't have anything solid to work on either.

"Bertram can't have hypnotized you," she eventually said, just as he expected her to.

"You've already thought him guilty once," Jane reminded her, with a slight shrug. "Just because O'Laughlin was involved too…"

"I know, but this is just so messed up, it's…"

She sighed heavily and instinctively, Jane reached out to touch her right hand. Automatically, she pulled it away, not willing to accept the gesture of comfort. Jane knew that she had pretty much signed her life away to the CBI, had sacrificed so much in service to the agency, that it was shocking to even consider how corrupt it was to the very core. And yet, the only way she and the team would be able to deal with this sorry mess was if they continued working with them. It was the only way they would have access to the resources they would desperately need. There was only a limited input he could have.

Then, there was the man he had apparently killed. Jane couldn't even tell Lisbon if how short or tall he was, how old he was, any identifying features. He just couldn't place the memory at all. Who was he, how did he fit into this puzzle? Was it really Red John, on some kind of suicide mission? Or, and Jane suspected it more likely, was he an underling who had been hypnotized into sacrificing his life for 'the greater good' of the apparent Cult of Red John?

"I know," he muttered. "I'm sorry."

"You're not."

"I am," he asserted, wishing desperately that she would believe him.

"How can we question Bertram? We haven't got anything substantial to bring him in," Lisbon snapped, more angry at the situation than Jane. "And who was it you killed, anyway?"

"You don't know?"

"Not as far as I know," she answered with a slight shrug. "Rigsby said they were working on it, but nothing's popped."

The bell rang and Jane immediately knew that meant visiting times were over for now. It was disappointing; though they weren't really getting anywhere, at least he was getting some sort of an explanation as to why he was here. And naturally, it was good to talk to Lisbon. He was relieved that she wasn't as furious with him as she could have been, though it was sad to see her almost resigned to his fate. She had, however, brightened somewhat during their discussion. Despite the fact he had killed a man, the idea that he hadn't been entirely himself seemed to have made the blow easier to deal with. Instead, it was the problems within the CBI that they were going to have to face that were dragging her down.

"Look after yourself, Lisbon," he said as she stood. "And don't push yourself too hard."

"You just…"

"Yes?"

"Never mind, I know you wouldn't listen anyway."

**TBC… **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Wow, sorry for the delay! I've started a new job and it's eating all of my writing time. I need to get used to writing whenever I'm not working now, heh. Had a day off today so jumped at the opportunity to write a long-overdue update to this.

Thank you to MerriWyllow, livingandthriving, Jeda09, Miss Peg and scarletblusssh for reviewing part six.

We still don't have a UK start date. Woe. So I still don't know how terribly off the mark I am with this fic (and I still don't want to know either!) That being said, I hope people are still enjoying this (probably very) AU fic. I love hearing what people think.

x tromana

* * *

><p><strong>Part Seven<strong>

Jane laid back on the uncomfortable bed, laced his fingers together and stared up at the ceiling. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do with his time, but lay down and simply think. This place was too noisy, too uncomfortable, too foreign for him to even consider for a second even trying to sleep. When he'd been a free man, outside of jail, he hadn't even been able to rest, so what were the chances of him being able to do so now? Besides, his mind was too full, too busy for him to be able to slow down and get some rest.

He found it unsettling still, having an expanse of his memory completely missing. Though it had taken him years to hone his skills, Jane had taken it for granted that he knew everything he needed to and now had a memory palace that could rival eidetic memory. Now, he understood the confusion and apprehension that Lisbon had when she lost her memory thanks to being drugged. Jane even felt vaguely sorry for teasing Rigsby all those years ago about his memory loss under hypnotism. He made a mental note to talk to him about it, to ask whether or not he did end up remembering what he'd done under hypnosis. After all, if it was possible for his memory to come back, it could be useful. Especially as he had an impending case where he had to defend his innocence - or at least, claim for diminished capacity - coming up.

Then there was the riddle as to who he'd killed. Now, Jane didn't for an instant believe it was Red John. What would the point of hypnotizing him have been? Besides, Red John had a survival instinct that was second to none; the serial killer would never want to die, he would have much preferred to slip away unnoticed. As far as Jane was concerned, the man who had come to the mall must have been one of Red John's acolytes, somebody not dissimilar to Rebecca or the assassin who had jumped out of the balcony at the hotel. Someone who could convince him, Patrick Jane, that he was Red John and therefore playing on his desire to kill him. After all, you couldn't convince somebody under hypnosis to do something against their moral character and there was nobody that Jane was willing to kill excepting Red John. This man had to be willing to walk to his death for him and be a scapegoat. To blemish their own moral character and take claim for Red John's deeds and allow him to disappear as he pleased.

Having found out what he had done, he wasn't surprised that Lisbon had initially been so abrasive with him. She had believed he had genuinely killed a man in cold blood. That was something that she was determined to stop him from doing. In addition to that, she had probably been blaming herself for making the wrong decision about who should accompany him to the mall. Everyone had been somewhat surprised by her decision to join Hightower, instead of accompanying Jane. It was an established fact that she just about trusted Jane, but it had been unusual for her to not be with him at such an important juncture in a Red John case. Maybe he wasn't the only one who had been hypnotized? Then again, she hadn't seemed to be under a trance when he had seen her, but it was entirely possible that Bertram had already had access to her and brought her out of it. He wished that the thought had crossed his mind sooner, that he'd have been able to ask her if she had any missing memories or the like.

Jane turned uncomfortably on the bed, to lay on his left arm. It was littered with bruises; he'd walked into the dining hall for breakfast, only to be attacked. That was the only reason he was back in his cell now, instead of out exercising with the rest of the inmates. A kindly nurse had patched him up and insisted that he rested. He let out a heavy sigh and pressed his eyes shut. Last time he'd been in jail, it had all been so easy. The other inmates had been easygoing and surprising accepting, given that he had worked with cops prior to his arrest. This time, however, it was akin to being locked in a cage with starved lions. They were unsurprisingly out for his blood, desperate to tear him limb from limb. These were men who knew how to kill and were more than happy to do it again. It didn't matter that Jane had never been the one to carry a badge and handcuffs; he was as good as a cop. In fact, there were a few housed in Pelican Bay whom he was partially responsible for the arrest of. It was little wonder they were particularly volatile with him. Their attitude had more than likely been passed onto the others.

Normally, he loathed the idea of solitary confinement. Ever since he was very small, Jane had hated being alone. As much as he pushed people away, tried to avoid allowing them to get close to him, he still needed somebody, anybody to bounce off of. He had never lost the childish need for attention, always needed someone to challenge him and keep him mentally stimulated. It didn't matter if he was manipulating people for his own needs or just entertaining them, without it, he felt at a loss. Even so, that loss of purpose was preferential to being beaten up on a daily basis.

He was trying to keep out of trouble; he knew that was what Lisbon was going to ask him to do when she'd seen his black eye. However, he couldn't even remember getting said injury. Jane had had to simply assume that was another war wound that had occurred when he'd still been hypnotized. He also assumed that he had probably been offered solitary when he'd first arrived, but rejected it once more. Then again, even if he had been completely himself, he would have come to the same decision.

Yet again, he turned over, trying desperately to get comfortable. The sooner this was over, the better. But then, he knew he could easily be trapped inside for years. Jane just hoped that, for now, he'd get a slight reprieve in the form of bail. At least then he would find it easier to try and build a case to defend himself. Then, he'd be able to see the team - and look after Lisbon. He wasn't the only one sporting injuries because of this latest debacle, after all.

xxx

"Boss!" Van Pelt cried, looking genuinely elated to see her.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Cho added, somewhat more seriously.

Lisbon placed her purse down on Jane's vacant desk and looked at her team seriously. She had assumed that Van Pelt would have taken more than three days worth of leave in order to recover from recent events, but obviously she was wrong. Then again, she, too, was at work despite the fact she had had an operation relatively recently. However, unlike Van Pelt, she wasn't planning on staying. Though she was loathe to admit to it, she had limitations and knew that she couldn't push herself too hard. All she wanted to do was see how they were doing and tell them everything she'd found out when talking with Jane.

"Is this the best place to talk?"

"Probably not, Rigsby," she admitted.

As she sat down on the couch, she winced. The others watched her warily, partially because she was sitting on _Jane's _couch, but mostly because they were concerned about the evident pain. Lisbon noticed the unspoken glances they shared with one another; the ones that said she was pushing it, that it was too much, too soon, but she didn't care. Frankly, she was grateful that she had something to focus on, otherwise she knew she would drive herself stir crazy. Much like Jane probably was, being trapped in a prison cell.

"We need to be careful. If Jane was hypnotized by somebody…" Cho said as Van Pelt scurried off to fetch her a cup of coffee.

"I know."

"Next time, we'll see you at home."

"I want to come back to work soon, you know."

Cho muttered something indistinct and Lisbon was certain it was along the lines of being hardly surprised, but she let it drop. Mostly, because she was too tired to argue with her subordinates over something as petty as that. For a start, the journey back home had drained her a fair bit. Having returned using public transport, she was suddenly very grateful to Rigsby for taking the time to drive her to Pelican Bay in the first place. And besides, bickering with anyone other than Jane at work felt wrong. She wasn't expected to indulge in childish behavior, being the boss, but somehow, Jane had always been the exception to the rule. He knew how to press her buttons and in a way, she almost actively encouraged it.

She quickly accepted the coffee from Van Pelt and sipped at it. Though she hadn't been away from work for long at all, already it felt strange to be back. She knew why; it was because Jane wasn't there. And she was sitting on the couch. This was a piece of furniture she only ever used if he was on it too. Lisbon shook her head slightly. She was being ridiculous; it wasn't Jane's couch, it was the CBI's. It had been there for longer than he had. They all knew that and yet, they were treating the piece of furniture almost reverentially.

Still, she pushed the thoughts to one side. Jane had pretty much convinced her that Cho's hypnotism theory was probably correct and she swiftly informed them of that. There was a mixture of shock and sheer horror at the concept that Bertram had been the one to hypnotize Jane. Then again, even she didn't know that that was the case. All Jane had told her was that he had broken him out of it. That could quite easily have meant that a mystery hypnotist had told Bertram the trigger point and sent him to break Jane out of it. Or, it could simply have been luck and the CBI's director had simply given Jane an affectionate squeeze and accidentally broken the trance.

Equally, she knew it was entirely possible that Jane was lying. That he had indeed faked his confusion in order to plea to her maternal streak. He had wanted her to forgive him and had handed her an easy route to do so. Also, having her onside meant she would have become more willing to try and find a loophole in order to spring him from jail for a second time. Lies came to Jane like second nature, so it wouldn't have been entirely out of the question for him to do so.

The problem was they had to work out which of the scenarios was the correct one.

She knew that Jane lying would have been the least destructive resolution, but she also had a feeling it was the least likely. There had been something so broken, so lost about the look in his eyes when she had told him that he'd shot a man in close range. Lisbon had gotten to the stage where she could generally tell when Jane was lying to her and that most certainly was not one of those looks. It was a rare occurrence when she saw him looking so vulnerable and that wasn't an appearance that was easy to fake. Besides, she knew it would hurt, finding out he hadn't acted under diminished capacity. It would mean he believed she was a gullible fool and the damage to their trust would be irreparable.

Then again, if Bertram was in cahoots with Red John, then it meant the CBI was rotten to the very core. And that was something that would cause irreparable damage to the agency.

"How do we work out if Bertram was the hypnotist? And what if he wasn't?" Van Pelt queried.

"That's what you've got to find out," Lisbon said automatically as she stood.

"What are you going to do?"

"Re-read the Red John case files," she answered back, "there might be something we've missed in there."

"Okay, boss."

"Look after yourself, okay?" Van Pelt said, her voice laced with concern.

Lisbon looked at her critically. Her junior agent was being entirely hypocritical, but then again, she wasn't in a position to say otherwise. Instead, she simply hoped that somebody else would point out that Van Pelt clearly wasn't thinking straight for now. Then again, nobody in their right mind would if they had discovered their fiancé had never really loved them and had to shoot them to protect others. If she hadn't sought out help by the time she was officially back in her position, then maybe she would consider saying something.

"Oh and Rigsby, next time someone asks you if you need to talk to a person of interest in jail, say yes."

"Yes, boss. Sorry, boss," he replied meekly.

**TBC…**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **I meant to get this up last week, but work got in the way. Ugh. Thankfully, I've finally been able to tie up the end of this chapter. Hooray?

Thank you to: cifre, xanderseye, livingandthriving and Miss Peg for reviewing part seven.

Also, I'm so excited to finally be able to start watching Season Four soon! Less than a fortnight to go now!

x tromana

* * *

><p><strong>Part Eight<strong>

"What did you just say?"

"I think it was something about your mom, Mac."

"That's what I thought," Mac replied and he edged closer to Jane. "Now why would you do a silly thing like that, huh?"

Jane squirmed slightly. The injuries he'd received since his incarceration, he either couldn't remember or they hadn't been self-inflicted. Occasionally, the other inmates waited in the shadows for him to come and pounced on him for kicks. He expected that; a cop behind bars was always the enemy and he was as good as one. However, since he had recently recovered his wits, he had at least attempted to stay out of trouble. There was no excuse for him to go willingly walking into a dangerous situation, proverbially speaking. He knew exactly what he was saying and doing and therefore, anything he did was his own fault.

Now, he had to play things carefully. He briefly remembered Lisbon berating him on many occasions for his supposedly loose tongue. How she claimed that it was the thing that always got him into trouble and therefore, resulted in messes that she had to clean up. She always hated the additional work that he put on her plate, but he also knew that she put it to one side because she understood the good he brought to her team. If it had really been that much of a hardship, she would have cast him aside as others had before her. Right now, however, he couldn't help but think that maybe, she had a point. If he had just put that little additional thought in before speaking, before showing off, then he wouldn't have had Mac sizing him up, waiting for an excuse to do him some serious damage.

"Let's not go crazy here," Jane said, holding his hands up in defeat. "All I meant was that if you actually apologized to your mom for the grief-"

"I ain't got no reason to apologize to my mom," Mac snarled, standing as close to Jane as it was physically possible to without touching. "She is a wonderful lady who loves me with all her heart."

"That's what she says, but I'm sure…"

Milliseconds later, he found himself on the floor, but not without having crashed into a wall first. Mac was like a crazed animal, desperate to tear him limb from limb. It wasn't long until others saw it as an excuse to get involved and fists were flying in all directions. He wasn't the only one on the receiving end; one of the younger inmates had attempted to say that Jane had a point and therefore, painted himself as a target too. Automatically, Jane pulled his arms around his head, in order to protect it, not that it was doing much good. At least he wasn't the sole target of the fray now; even if he was the only one not even bothering to defend himself or retaliate. Then again, there was no point in him even doing so. All of the men with him were built like houses. Him even bothering to try and hit back would have been like a fly getting squashed on a car window. There was no point. It was safer for him to at least wait it out and hope that the staff sorted out the brawl soon.

It felt like an eternity by the time Kenneth got to him. The man had a look of pity in his eyes as he eased Jane slowly to his feet and led him out of the mess hall. In silence, Kenneth took him straight back to the infirmary. Naturally, the brawl had meant that many of the inmates were headed straight there, but some, including Jane required prioritization. They had had a lot more damage to them than others; some just simply needed a band aid, or maybe an ice pack, at most.

"It seems like I'm bringing you here daily, Mr. Jane," Kenneth spoke as he sat him down. "Why is that?"

"I don't know. Some people say I'm a magnet for trouble."

"I'd say they were right," he agreed, with a wan smile. "I suggest, this time, you stay in solitary. Next time, you might not be so lucky."

Jane smirked. What was lucky about getting a bloody nose, amongst other injuries? When he saw that Kenneth was looking at him seriously, his face fell. He hated it whenever people felt sorry for him; he knew full well that a lot of what he did was deserved. And even when he hadn't deserved it, well. Sometimes, it just made him feel like he was designed to live a life where he was pitied by people. Made them think 'thank god that isn't me'. Well, at least he managed to supply a little happiness for some miserable souls, who could only be cheered up if they saw other people in pain.

"Yeah, I think you might be right."

"The doctor will be with you shortly."

As the door slammed shut behind Kenneth, Jane stared at the ceiling. Like the rest of the jail, the infirmary was depressing. Then again, as this was a place where people were sent to be punished, they were hardly going to make it out to be a life of luxury. Depriving people of their freedom was rarely enough to truly punish the types who ended up behind bars. So long as they had everything in order to be able to live and maybe, if they were destined for freedom instead of death row, turn their lives around upon release, then it was enough. It was just a shame that the majority of inmates never took the opportunity to turn over a new leaf.

Not that he was intending to either. Instead, he was out for answers, to try and discover who he'd killed and why. If it hadn't been Red John, what made the person he'd killed deserve to be shot to death in a public area? Why did the serial killer want him behind bars, now of all times? Did Red John fear that Jane was finally getting too close to working out who he was?

It was going to be a long three day wait until his next hearing. At least at that one, there would be a glimmer of hope, a chance for a brief reprieve. Then, he would know whether or not he would qualify for bail. And if he did, just how much it would cost him.

xxx

"A brawl, Jane?" she hissed as she sidled up beside him. "Not again!"

"Do not speak to the accused," someone snapped at her and Lisbon rolled her eyes.

"I didn't mean to, it was an accident!" Jane replied quietly and naturally, she didn't believe him.

"Where have I heard that one before?"

"Ma'am," the guard repeated, staring pointedly at her. "I said…"

"I know what you said. I'm going."

Reluctantly, she watched as Jane was manhandled through the doors. With a sigh, she followed them in. Normally, being in court didn't leave her feeling quite so uncomfortable. It was a part of her job description, testifying in cases. Just because they had closed the case and handed it onto the assistant DA, it didn't mean it their input was necessarily at an end. They still had to help the courts to put the final nail in the coffin, to send whichever bastard they were dealing with, behind bars for a lengthy period of time. Lisbon knew that eventually, she would probably have to testify against Jane and she hated that. At least this was just a hearing. To let him know what he stood accused of, what the repercussions were and of course, if he would get bail at all.

Lisbon took her place as Jane was forced up into the stand. It wasn't just the obvious battle wounds that worried her; she hated seeing him so scared, so confused. It was exactly the same look that he'd had when she had seen him in Pelican Bay. The look of someone heading into the unknown. But Jane wasn't the only one; they all were. Jane's shooting had opened up more questions than answers, for him more than anybody else. Now, they just had to work as hard as possible to make sure they untangled this web before it was too late.

Really, Lisbon wanted - needed - to talk to him in private. Wanted to update him on all the research her team was attempting to do surreptitiously. It was hard for them, she knew it. They were all under close scrutiny. People were suspecting Cho and Rigsby from having assisted Jane in the murder, one way or another. After all, they had been with him shortly before he shot the man to death. She and Van Pelt had it easier in that sense; Van Pelt hadn't been there and she, well mandatory leave had its upsides on occasion.

Not that going through the old case files had provided her with much information. After all, Jane wasn't the only one who knew the Red John case back to front and inside out. Yes, he had a personal vendetta which drove him towards closing it, but she had her personal pride at stake. Ever since she had first been entrusted with Red John, she had vowed to be the one to finally catch him, to finally close the damn thing. For years, she'd had people doubting her expertise and she had fixated on Red John. Closing it would not only mean a massive career boost, but would also prove the skeptics that she was as good, if not better, than any of them.

Instead, things seemed to have got messier and messier. She was recovering from a serious injury, one of her unit was falling into a quiet depression and as for her consultant… Well, he had just killed a man, when she had always vowed to stop him, when it finally came down to it. And yet, everyone assumed that it was all over. Red John was gone and Patrick Jane was going to use that as his defense. Or that was what the hushed conversation around her had suggested. Just when they all thought that Red John may well have finally been stopped, a curve ball that nobody else knew about had been thrown. However, even she didn't know how he was going to tackle it. Because it was looking to her less and less likely that it was. Therefore, it was growing increasingly likely that the death penalty could be on the table with regards to this case.

The audience fell into a hushed silence as the judge finally took his place. Lisbon listened attentively; this was important. She needed to know how Jane was going to plea in order to know where to move onto next. When he, somewhat unsurprisingly, announced that he was pleading not guilty, she groaned inwardly. Though she was fairly certain he had no memory of the event, Lisbon also knew that he would have had more leniency if he had at least shown a little remorse for his act. Instead, it resulted in the rest of the hearing going in the exact direction she expected. Yes, death could be on the table and he would be tried in front of a full jury.

At least that gave them a little time to do some more work, to find out if Bertram had any connections whatsoever to Red John. The more information they could get to Jane, the more likely it was that essentially, he could save his own life. It was strange; there had been times when she had been itching to get rid of Jane. Cursed the way that he almost literally drove her up the wall. Grew frustrated at the fact that he never talked and never listened. Now, she had grown used to his quirks. Accepted them as being a part of him and just let him get on with it.

And she missed him.

Every other time she had been injured or ill for whatever reason, he had been around. Or at least, he had made sure that she was getting along okay and was comfortable or whatever. It felt like there was something missing. She hadn't had the regular calls, just to check she had everything she needed. Or him attempting to do fieldwork while she was curled up in her office, lamenting the fact she had a migraine. Jane wasn't there to cheer any of them up, never mind helping to close the particularly difficult cases. Hell, it was even getting to the stage where she was missing the way he seemed to go out of his way to annoy her, for entertainment purposes.

But there was no way he'd be granted bail. He'd killed a man. That would surely be enough to keep him behind bars.

"As for the question of bail…"

**TBC…**


End file.
